


Bedtime Stories

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-09
Updated: 2002-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Jed displays his unexpected ability to make everything sexy





	Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Bedtime Stories**

**by:** Linda B 

**Character:** Jed/Abbey  
**Category:** Romance  
**Rating:** ADULT  
**Summary:** Jed displays his unexpected ability to make everything sexy   
**Author’s Notes:**    Gratuitous sex     

The scene in the Presidential bedroom in the White House Residence was quiet.  There was the occasional sound of a page being turned, and both Jed and Abbey were intent on their reading, she propped up against the bed pillows and he in his favorite chair.  A casual observer would have been amused to watch as, simultaneously, both turned a page then reached up to push their glasses back in place.    

Jed sighed and threw the briefing folder on the table.  

“That’s it.  I can’t take any more of that tonight.”

Abbey looked up.

“What is it you can’t take?”

“A study on the timber industry.”  He grinned.  “Guaranteed to make you sleep like a log.”

She rolled her eyes at him and directed her attention back to her own reading material.

“That was a pun.  Get it?”

“Yeah.”

He came over and flopped across the bed, scattering the small pile of magazines.

“You sure get a lot of magazines.”  He scanned the glossy covers.  “A lot of magazines that look exactly alike.”

“This is my assigned reading,”  Abbey informed him.  “Every month, Lilli gets all the womens’ magazines and marks the articles I need to read so that I’ll be up to speed on the concerns of the average American woman.”

“We have that information.  We do polling on women’s issues.”

“Really, Mr. President?  So tell me what the average American woman wants.”

He started to tick things off on his fingers, “Good schools.  Health care.  Equal pay and equal opportunity in the workplace.  Affordable child care.  Financial security.  Safety from crime and drugs.  You know, the stuff we all want.”

“And all of those are very good answers.  When the government pollster asks the questions.”

“You’re implying there’s something we’ve missed.”

“Apparently there is.  When women pay good money for a magazine, they seem to have other concerns.”

“And you’re going to enlighten me?”

“Yeah.  On any given month, every one of these publications has articles on how to lose weight, look younger, and have better hair.  And all this is only the build up to the main feature, which  is sex.  The average American woman wants mind-blowing, earth-moving, scream with delight sex.  And she is being told how to get it, how to give it, and how much is never enough.”

“Well,  I don’t see that there’s much we can do about weight loss and hair styles, but I’m gonna get the guys on this sex initiative first thing in the morning.  In fact, I’m prepared to start doing my part tonight.  Do you think there’s an average American woman somewhere in the building?”  

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“You might need to read this first,” she said, shoving an open magazine toward him and pointing at a page.

He started reading, then muttered, “Done that.”  

Followed by, “Done that, too.”  

Then, “Done that, but really didn’t think it was that great.”

She grabbed the magazine back, “You haven’t done any of these things.  At least, not that I know of.”

“Oh, but I did, sweetheart.  I just did ‘em in my head.  The imagination is a great thing.  In fact, that’s all that article is about.  Imagination.  These tips are just imaginative ways of doing the same things we learned to do in the back seat of a Ford.”

“So, you support the theory that the brain is the sexiest organ,” Abbey laughed.

“I didn’t say that.  But, usually, where the thoughts lead, the body follows.”

“So you can make anything sexy just by thinking of it in a certain way?”

“Yeah,” he sounded pretty smug. 

“I’m waiting for an example.  And it better not be chocolate syrup or lace underwear or feather dusters.”

“Okay.  How about that timber report?  It was so boring that I had trouble remembering to turn the pages.  But timber can become very, very sexy.”

The look she gave him was skeptical, to say the least.

“Close your eyes and visualize what I am about to describe.”

She gave him an exasperated look.

“Close ‘em.” he demanded.  Then he lowered his voice to a smooth, sexy drawl, saying,  “A tree begins life as a sapling, smooth and tender, easy to bend.  The sapling seeks warmth and moisture to make it grow.  >From the forest floor of lush grass, it grows tall and sturdy, always increasing in girth and hardness.  Loving hands nurture it, to be rewarded by a tree towering with strength.  And, when the time is right, it bursts forth in glory and sheds its seed, yet remains resilient enough to do so over and over again.”

She opened her eyes and smirked.

“What’s with the ‘over and over again’ part?”

“Abbey, have you never heard of poetic license?  Besides, I am eternally optimistic.”

“Well, I have to admit the timber thing is marginally sexy, but probably it was your tone of voice more than anything else.  I don’t think you can do it again.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

“Just a second, let me think of something.”  She picked up one of the magazines and started thumbing through it, looking for an idea.  She found one.

“Car polish,” she said with a smile.

“No test at all.  Think about it, my dear.  You squeeze the bottle.  You apply the smooth, silky liquid over a gleaming surface warmed by the sun.  Then you rub with a repetitive circular motion.  Undeniably sexy.”

“Is this what you sit and think about in the Oval Office while Leo does all the work?”

“I don’t have to think about it.  It’s a talent.  These things just come to me.  And Leo does not do all the work.”

She turned a few more pages in the magazine, finally saying, “Okay, try this.  A jar of cherries.”

“Hell, Abbey, I don’t even have to do that one.  Cherries are innately sexy.  The FDA should make them include the warning ‘sexually explicit food’ on the label.”

“Well, I can’t find anything you can’t spin.”  She was about to throw the magazine down when she came to a page of recipes and one of them called for…

“A can of pork and beans,” she said.

“A can of pork and beans?”

“Yeah.  Make that sexy.”

He paused for just a moment, then smiled and began, “Well, first, there’s the can.  Smooth and a nice size to fit in your hand.  When you tip it, you can feel the contents move, rushing to respond to your touch.  When the lid comes off, the seal is released with a wonderful whooshing sound, like the indrawn breath of an excited lover.  The contents, when revealed, are ready for the insertion of the spoon.  Dipping into the can, you should take only a few, so you can fully appreciate them.  The sauce runs over your tongue, tangy and sweet at the same time.  When the sauce is gone, each delectably round and perfect bean can be savored as it glides over the tongue.  You nibble gently, exposing the sweet inner texture of the bean.  And there is always a surprise when you find a tiny chunk of pork.  You hold it gently between your teeth, sucking…”

Abbey stopped him.  “I give up.  You are the master.  Of what exactly, I do not know, but you are the master.”

“Yep, I am.  I told you, imagination is the key.”

She tossed the magazine on the floor, and leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes.  The room was very quiet as they both relaxed.  Jed was still beside her, lying on his stomach.  He placed his hand flat on her stomach, then moved it down to the soft mound that protected her pubic bone.  He pressed harder and felt her squirm.

“Abbey, are you using your imagination?”

“Yeah, I’m imagining that would feel a whole lot better without any clothes.”

“Not yet.  Just keep your eyes closed and relax.  Let your body follow your thoughts.”

He stayed as he was for the moment, still rubbing gently, then he moved closer and whispered, his breath warm against her ear, “Think about pork and beans.”

She felt laughter bubble up, but it was choked back with a gasp as he placed his warm mouth on her breast.  The silky fabric of her nightgown was still between his lips and her skin, but the sensation was incredible.  

 What had he said?  She recalled something about delectable round beans being savored as they glided over the tongue.  

She could feel his tongue probing against the silk, seeking the nipple.  Gliding over it again and again as it tightened.  She could feel her heart rate begin to creep up.

What was next?  She could barely think.  Nibble.  Expose the sweet inner texture. Suck.

He was following his own directions to the letter, moving from one breast to the other.  Nibble.  Suck.  But he still did not move the nightgown away.  The fabric clung wetly, exposing her taut, round perfection.  God, he was driving her insane with his lips and tongue and that hand that kept wandering over her lower body.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.  She pushed him away and sat up to remove her nightgown.

“What’s the matter?  Did your imagination run away with you?” she could hear the triumph in his voice.

“What do you think?”  

“Oh, yeah.  Me too,” he said as he rolled over onto his back and she saw the sizable bulge in his pajama pants.  

Having discarded her clothes, she rolled over next to him and pushed down his pajamas and boxers, just enough to let his erection spring forward.  She thanked God that she was not just imagining this.   She put her hands on either side of him, her thumbs barely rubbing the base of his aroused organ, the other fingers pushing down through the mat of coarse hair and pressing against his groin.  

She put her lips around him, teasing and sucking the tip, then moved downward to take him into her mouth.  Her tongue darted around him, and she felt him become even firmer.  She moved her mouth up and down the shaft, creating gentle suction, until she heard him moan.

“Abbey,  you need to…”

Stop.  After all these years, she knew the limits, although sometimes she crossed the line.  But tonight she wanted him inside her, hard and slick.  With a last flick of her tongue against the head of his erection, she sat up.

Jed pushed his clothes completely off, then  reached out his arms and pulled her over him.  Abbey paused above his body as he touched her, his fingers insistent against her moist warm flesh, stroking her pulsing nub.  Then his fingers were gone, and he was guiding himself into position, so she could lower herself onto his erection.   He started moving beneath her, but she stayed perfectly still, reaching down to stop his bucking hips.

“Jed.  Let me.”

Abbey moved up and down, slowly, as he tried to remain motionless.  With each downward movement, she pulled him in completely, tilting her pelvis so that her clitoris rubbed against that point where his penetrating organ sprang from his torso.  The pressure was building with each arc, but she resisted the desire to move faster.  Her burning arousal begin to spread.  As if knowing it, Jed moved his hands from her thighs and  reached up, rubbing his hands over her breasts, squeezing gently.  Immediately, the ripples of sensation began to move upward through her belly, the waves growing stronger and stronger, and, within moments,  she was totally overwhelmed by her orgasm.    

He moved his hands from her breasts, and pulled her down to him, kissing her firmly.  Her lips parted and his tongue invaded her mouth, thrusting deeply.  

As he broke the kiss, he asked softly, “Was that good?”

She gave a satisfied sigh, “You have no idea how good.”

“I’m hoping to find out.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and began to move his hips, thrusting passionately.  She knew she had twice brought him to the brink, once with her mouth, then again as she slid up and down on top of him.  Now she wanted him to enjoy the same wonderful release that she had just experienced.  She tightened herself around him, contracting her muscles as he thrust into her.  He moved more and more quickly, until she couldn’t keep up his pace.  He thrust high and fast until she felt the throbbing as he began to climax.  With each burst, he groaned, gripping her hips as he filled her completely.  Finally, his energy spent, he relaxed his arms and gently stroked her back.

“Bet the magazines can’t beat that,” he said.

 The scene in the Presidential bedroom in the White House Residence was quiet.  Abbey had found a fresh nightgown, and was back in bed, with the pillows flattened, already slipping into slumber.  Jed came out of the bathroom, pulling on a robe over his pajama pants.  

She heard him open the bedroom door and asked sleepily, “Where are you going?”

“To the kitchen.  I’m hungry.”

“Jed…” she sat up a little and looked at him.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’ll find any pork and beans,” she grinned.

“No problem,” he paused.  “I think I want some cherries.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading.  Feedback is appreciated.


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